


Life's A Beach — A Dark Farce Under The Sun

by VoxAdam



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Day At The Beach, F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoxAdam/pseuds/VoxAdam
Summary: What should have been a relaxing afternoon at the beach for Ponyville's brickmaker, his wife and his son, turns spectacularly wrong and only gets worse once gaudily "bimbofied" versions of the Mane Six get involved.Co-written with MagicMan001(Crack AU. Script Fic. Entirely non-canon to the show.)





	Life's A Beach — A Dark Farce Under The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to MagicMan001, for being an indulgent ear throughout the making of this bizarre idea, in addition for providing the concept and characterisation of the "bimbofied" versions of the Mane Six in the first place.

**Li** **fe’s a Beach**  

by VoxAdam & MagicMan001

 

INTRO - Manehattan Beach. It’s a surprise boiling summer’s day and half the population of Ponyville has hauled flank to the nearest and biggest beach to enjoy a day of summer fun. Tents and towels sprawl over the bright white sanded beach like a pockmarked muzzle. We cut to the Fuse family who, thanks to early planning, have secured themselves a snug little alcove between a pair of tall rocks that faces the roaring sea.

The family of three, consisting of the massive Short Fuse and his far shorter wife and child, are in the midst of settling down on the beach mats, a basket of goodies between them.

Featherweight, the son, quiet as always, is fondly admiring the new camera has mother has presented him for his birthday. Most kids would haved prefered hoofball cards or the latest Action Mare doll, but then again, Feather isn’t like most kids.

Minus herself is, at present, looking away from her boy, busy as she is easing herself into her full-body swimsuit. A special suit, not exactly kosher by Equestrian standards, because it was made of real snake-skin. Boa constrictor, to be precise. The tragic end result of her previous idea of a birthday present for her son, smitten by her own hooves after it hadn’t wanted to play nice with Feather.

Her husband chewed her out for it at first, demanding to know what she was thinking, mixing her Forest Ranger work with leisure. He’s adopted a different tune after seeing how, making the best of a bad situation, she’s repurposed the dead animal.

Fuse lies flat of his back on top of the _Daring Do_ beach towel, eyes half-closed in near slumber behindhis shades. Ever the practical stallion, his own beach attire consists of a stretched-out grey tank top and a pair of groaning lime-green swim-trunks, that are barely holding on by the tied white laces. A half-empty sweating can of Apple Family cider rests precariously in his hoof, threatening to tip over and turn the sand into a rank-smelling mud pie.

Having finished covering herself, with only her face and hoof-tips jotting out from the scaley beach garment, Minus turns her attention back to Featherweight, who doesn’t notice her, still engrossed as he is in his camera. She takes advantage of this to catch him off-guard, drawing him into a tight hug and kiss on the cheek, much to his blushing discomfort.

MINUS (cooes): “That’s right, lad, you love your shiney new toy, don’t you? You go and have fun with it now. Daddy’s all sleepy, look at him, the big porpoise, and Mummy’s in need of her own beauty rest. How about you take an hour, don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere. I hear there’s a volleyball range further up, see if you can make some friends.”

Featherweight smiles chipperly, though discreetly rubs his now sore neck. He dons the camera to flutter off behind the giant rock obscuring their view of the beach, leaving both adults alone.

FUSE: “You’ve sent that boy off to get in trouble again.”

MINUS: “Trouble? Featherweight? I really don’t know what you mean. Our boy doesn’t go off looking for trouble, it’s just trouble that’s got a way of finding our boy.”

FUSE: “Honey, Waspington is still threatening to sue us after what happened at the school, and you’ve just sent him off to play volleyball with that dang stupid camera!”

MINUS: “Ah, that. Yes. Bright as he can be, guess Feather’s a real slow learner when it comes to snooping in on girls’ quiet time. Still, if a week’s helping you press them bricks after school won’t have knocked a little sense into him, I don’t know what will.”

FUSE: “Being a creeper around the girl’s locker room isn’t something I’d chalk as slow learning. I appreciate the extra hooves with the bricks, but I just don’t think the message is settling in. I’m telling you, the boy ain’t—

Minus puts a forehoof to his lips.

MINUS: “Hush there, not another word. He’s our boy, and he’s what he is. I mean, I like to think we ain’t bad stock, considering where we each got our starts.”

FUSE: (gently removing her hoof) “Exactly, honey. We’ve come along way since then, but it’s also why the last thing I want is him ending up down the same route.”

MINUS: “Oh, Fusey, you can’t possibly--”

FUSE: “I know what you’re gonna say and I know it’s not the same thing. But do you remember how I started?”

MINUS: “No, not really, I wasn’t listening.”

FUSE: “Putting saran wrap around toilet bowls when I was six-years-old. Trust me, it’s a more slippery slope than you think.”

MINUS: (giggles) “Really, now? Well, as a mother and wife, I suppose I’m contractually obligated to shame you, for how crass that is. But… can’t lie to you, it depends heavily on who you’re doing it to. We know some people who’d stand to be reminded they don’t have rainbows coming outta their every pore…”

FUSE: (pause) “Okay, yeah, that sounds way more tempting than it should,” (quickly) “but the answer is ‘no’, Minnie. Sometimes, I honestly think you wanna get sued.” (lifts can to take a drink, but only takes a sip before scrunching his muzzle distastefully) “Cripes, this is flatter than... flatter than, uh... help me out here, Minus.”

Minus has been laying stomach-down on her beach towel, her head resting upon her crossed forehooves as her husband says his piece. Hearing his appeal to her, she lifts her head.

MINUS: (lazily) “Hmm?” (realises) “Oh, right. Flat, you say? What’s flatter than measly drink? Wait, I’ve got it.” (grins a little, edging closer to him) “How about this, if these were the old days, I coulda sworn it was flatter than Waspington’s noggin’ after you were done with him, Brick Butt.”

FUSE: (pause) “Yeah, that works.” (pours away his flat drink and puts his leg around the edging-closer Minus) “And Celestia knows he and his wife sure know how to drive any regular pony’s nerves.”

MINUS: “Ah, c’mon, honey, let’s stop thinking about that. This is meant to be our vacation.” (lets her hoof sweep over the scene) “Just us, the sand, and the waves. And you know ponies, this lot are a law-abiding bunch. Put a sign marked ‘Private Beach’ and they’ll steer well clear. Even our dear little sprog’s out of the picture, for a bit. So, really, it’s just you and me...”

She suggestively traces her forehoof in circles around his belly. Fuse is bright enough to get the signals and draws her closer into his embrace, until she is halfway on top of him, with her hind leg curled over his ponch and her foreleg hooked on his shoulder. She begins planting blue lipstick kisses all along his neck and over his muzzle. It isn’t long before he’s grabbing her haunches and they’re already grinding up against each other.

FUSE: (his mouth full) “Anypony around?”

MINUS: (mouth full also) “No.”

FUSE: “Get underneath me.”

MINUS: “Mmph! Really gotta lot of faith in a tiny mare’s ability to carry your weight, big boy. You be careful you don’t flatten [i] _me_ [/i], or I’ll make sure to have your arse roasted in your own kiln.”

Minus squirms her way underneath his tremendous bulk, somehow managing to raise her curvaceous hind legs in position, giving a shake through her snakeskin suit. Fuse slowly gets on all fours, moving his sagging belly so it’s not crushing his wife. He kisses the back of her head, then slowly starts grinding before full-on thrusting his waist.

Things would progress to their natural conclusion, until Fuse picks up the distinct sound of popping fabric. He looks over his shoulder just in time to see his lime trunks splint straight down the middle, exposing his vast red rump to the sun. The remains quickly gave away too, flying apart in shreds. Fuse’s muzzle turned a deeper shade of red of embarrassment.

MINUS: (looks around) “Fuse? Wha-”

But the abrupt turn of her neck has, apparently, set off a chain reaction. A sound of tearing, very similar to the one which came from her husband above her, reaches her ears from just below her napeline.

She glances down, and much to her bewilderement, thin lines are zig-zagging all the way down the surface of her snakesuit. Scales slide apart, a few of them outrighz shedding, slowly at first, in ones and twos. Then she hears something pop, and the scales come out in clumps of fours, fives, even sixes.

And she feels, more than sees, as a long, straight line slices clean through the entire back of her hard-earned suit, cutting it into two neat halves. The remains crumple to the tips of her hooves. Suddenly, the light breeze of the ocean wind feels very real against her exposed flanks, as does the looming shadow of her husband, his hot, panting breath close by her ear.

MINUS: “Eep.”

Fuse immediately claps his hind legs shut, protecting his privates from the chilling embrace of the breeze. His legs around his wife tightens and he lets his belly drop, blanketing her in his oozing flab. His eyes are darting franticly in every direction in search of anypony around the beach, even if sixty yards away and little to no chance of seeing them. Minus, meanwhile, is panicking outright, scuttling underneath her husband’s belly like a hermit crab into its shell.

FUSE: (pants) “Jeepers! Are you alright, Minnie?”

MINUS: (her voice muffled from under him) “F-fine, just fine, so long as you don’t move…”

FUSE: “Don’t worry, babe, I’m like a rock out here. A big red rock. I’m the one taking the bullet, not you.”

MINUS: “Really sweet, honey, but we’re sitting ducks out here. What do we do?!”

FUSE: “Um…” (weakly) “Wait for Featherweight to come back?”

MINUS: “... I’m still good for it, you know.”

Fuse has to stifle a gasp at this. He lifts himself slightly, enough to take a look at his wife, lying on the sand with her legs bunched up to her sides.

FUSE: “You’re not serious. Didn’t you hear what I just said? The boy’s already got a record for-”

MINUS (raises herself): “Then are you just gonna stand up there yammerin’, or get a move on?”

FUSE: (pause) “Minus?”

MINUS: “What?”

FUSE: (smirks) “You’re naked.”  


MINUS: (sniggers) “Heh. So are you. Feels kinda… nice, don’t it?”

As rational as he may be, even Fuse can’t resist the desire raging like an inferno in his loins. There is little means of recourse now. They are not getting off this beach unnoticed for hours, and here they are protected by their boulder barriers.

FUSE: “Like our honeymoon at Alcopolcolt.”

MINUS: (moaning) That was the best night I’ve ever had, baby. We’re here now, let’s recreate the night, shall we?”

FUSE: (caving in) “You want me to finish the job?”

MINUS: “Nuh-no. We’ll reset the mood. Start over. Lemme on top.”

FUSE: “I told you I’m taking the bullet here. Ponies might see you—”

MINUS: “At this point, I couldn’t even care. Up up up!”

Minus slips and slithers her way out from beneath that belly and takes a little gasp for air. That thing is a lethal weapon. This does not deter though, nor the outdoor exposure or the sudden chill covering her in goosebumps. Meanwhile, Fuse rolls over.

Garnering her strength, she clambers on top of the big red hill that is her hubby’s belly. Without a word of pause, the two resume their snogging without a care in the world, their exposure now serving a sense of release and relief. They couldn’t give a damn if the Princesses themselves were watching.

Just then, outside the couple’s bubble, the tides starts picking up. They draw in and out, steadily reaching the fetlocks of Fuse’s hooves. Both ponies are too enamoured with sucking each other’s faces off to pay any notice, even when the next wave completely submerges them in salty sea water.

It recedes as soon as it came. Fuse’s lips remain welded to his wife’s; so scrumptiously sweet and plump like ripe cherries. It is only when his hooves discovered Minus’ inexplicably more voluptuous body that he notices something amiss. He opens one eye and discovers he wasn’t smooching his wife at all.

FLUTTERSHY: “Heya... big boy.”

Slowly, alluringly, Fluttershy pushes her damp pink mane from her glistening, oversized barrel with the back of her hoof, flicking it over her shoulder. She is decked out in a most very tight, shiny purple bikini, serving only to highlight herthe curves of bodacious bod further. Those beautiful cyan eyes scan his own body from where she lies on top of his belly, feasting them on the masculine coat of red and bulky muscles beneath.

FLUTTERSHY: “I got lost swimming out at sea. I almost drowned.” (batting her long lashes, giving him the doe look) “Thank you so much for saving me...” (kneading his barrel with his soft hooves) “My hero.”

FUSE: (breaking out of his shocked stupor, he tries but fails to crawl away) “Whoa whoa whoa, lady! I don’t... I-I, hey, I’m glad you’re okay and all, but... you seen my wife anywhere?”

FLUTTERSHY: (sounding faux-disappointed) “Your wife? Aww, should’ve known a big stud muffin like you was married. Oh well, I haven’t seen her...” (leaning in with a feisty smirk) “So let’s just pretend you’re aren’t!”

FUSE: “Lady, what the hell is wrong with y—” (his voice is muffled when Fluttershy slams her mouth against his, forking her tongue around the interiors of his cheeks) “Mmmm! Hmmmmmm!”

By now, Fluttershy’s perverse, exquisitely hooficured hooves are exploring her brand new prize. So thick and meaty, he’ll do nicely, she figured. The trollop even starts to grind against his form with even more passion and intensity than the mare before her. Not that Fuse himself is getting any pleasure for it.

Suddenly, Hootershy squeaks as she feels as sharp tug at her tail, tearing her roaming lips away from Fuse’s. Another tug and she gets dragged from his belly, trailing a slick of salt water, landing on the sand before his hooves with a heavy ‘thud’. Bewildered, Fuse looks up to find out what is going on.

He sees Fluttershy, her forehooves flailing around as she desperately reaches for him, getting pulled away by her tail. The sleek pink tufts clamped tightly between the teeth of a drenched Minus, glowering balefully at the pegasus from beneath her wet bangs. Hootershy’s desperate, wailing struggle cannot hold her weight, literally, with the slim model futilely grabbing empty air as Fuse’s small yet sturdy wife digs her hooves into the sand.

FLUTTERSHY: “No-ooo, please! What are you-”

MINUS: (through a mouthful of hair) “Shaddap, trollop.”

With all her innate strength, Minus clenches her teeth on her teeth and begins to swing the dainty model around in the air like a jackhammer. Hootershy screams and pleads, then just groans sickly as she spins around. The cycle finally ends with a loud, painful _rrriiip_ as both her extensions and entire tail tear clean off, and she is sent flying, screaming miles through the air, crashing into the distant ocean.

Fluttershy sinks deep into the water like a boulder, hooves pressed over her burning exposed rump. Feeling the shift in current, she blinks and looks over her shoulder to see a pair of tremendously huge, ferociously hungry, razor-toothed great white sharks surrounding her. The mare lets out one final scream of terror, but only a stream of bubbles comes out.

Harrumphing, Minus dusts off her hooves, before she promptly snaps her head back at her chump of a husband, with a whipcrack sound effect.

FUSE: (slowly) “Minus... I have no idea what or how the hell that happened, you but need to know that none of it was my fault.”

Minus just marches past him, muzzle held high with disdain, before reaching back and napping Fuse by the ear between her teeth. She drags him all the way back to the beach towel and unceremoniously drops him, sinking down next to him, forelegs crossed, in a huff.

FUSE: (facedown, muffled) “Honey...”

She promptly places her hoof on top of his head and shoves down into the sand with ease. For a while, she just sits there and stews in her anger like a foal sent to the naughty corner. Then a chill runs through her fur. She clutches her sides, only now remembering she and her husband were completely naked, and without the thrill of impending nook nook present, only one feeling rushed through her and that was shame.

That was when she noticed it. On the other side of the rocks, she noticed an abandoned bikini. It was small, tattered and purple, but it would fit her fine enough. She certainly can’t go the rest of the day indecent, lest she is caught. That’s the last thing her baby boy needs.

MINUS: (mutters to herself, smirking): “Besides, unless I’m much mistaken, that body-hugging rag over there’s all that’s left of the trollop. Poetic justice, I calls it.”

FUSE: (muffled) “Whuh?”

Minus lifts her hoof, releasing him. His face jolts up, gasping for air.

MINUS (smiles): “Stroke of luck, Shorty. I spot something for me to wear, just over there, behind those boulders. You’ll be getting the double package when I come back. Me, in the harridan’s luscious attire.”

Fuse looks to where she’s pointinh, catching his breath, and sees what it is.

FUSE: “Dammit, Minus… You went and offed her, didn’t you. She’s…”

MINUS: “... out of our hair, is what I call it.”

FUSE: “Y-yeah, okay, let’s go with that.”

Minus places a forehoof to his lips fondly.

MINUS: “Hey, chin up, love. You said you were taking the bullet for me earlier, I ain’t about to leave you hanging out to dry, even if you do get my goat sometimes. First thing when I’m properly kitted out again, I’ll be headed to the cabin to get your spare trunks.”

Fuse raises himself, rubbing his head.

FUSE: “Ugh… I need another drink.” (He glances to the side and see his mug is all spilled.) “Maybe you could get one of those, too, it’d be sweet.” (Pauses.) “And our son. Where’s he got to, d’you think? After all what’s gone down, I ain’t too keen on letting him out of my sight a moment longer.”

MINUS: “Aw, come on.”

FUSE: “I’m serious, Minnie.”

MINUS: (pouts) “Spoilsport. Fine, I’ll keep an eye out for Feather. Then we all go have a nap.” (Again, she looks towards the tattered suit.) “Hm, from what I’m seeing there, those sharks sure know how to eat a dainty meal. Barely a scratch on that beauty! Shouldn’t take too long to get it back ship-shape.”

In spite of his lingering unease at the deed his wife’s just committed, Fuse can’t help grinning a little at the thought of her wearing the pink-maned model’s attire.

MINUS: “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

She heads off, not without giving a small shake of her exposed backside for good measure, feeling his eyes on her.

With the practice from the old adventuring days, it isn’t difficult for Minus to clamber over the boulders separating their corner of the beach from the next, her sights on the remnants of the bikini a few feet away, billowing in the surf.

Minus licks her lips eagerly. That thing must cost more than she makes in a year. It’s wasted on the likes of the rich hob-nobs who form the bulk of this beach’s clientele. It’s true what she said, her Fuse may irritate her sometimes, but they know how to appreciate each other.

They’ve got a fine lad to prove it.

And this is how, thinking these thoughts, that when Minus is treading the sand just inches away from retrieving her prize, she hears an indistinct, yet familiar plaintive cry, coming somewhere further up the beach behind her.

MINUS: (quietly) “Baby...?”

  
And in a heartbeat, a primal snarl stretches across her muzzle.

Any thought of shame or embarrassment evaporates and she is galloping at full speed across the beach, ignoring the sounds of shocked gasps and wolf whistles in her ears. She knocks over sandcastles, parasols, even accidentally treads on one unfortunate stallion’s crotch. They are all nonexistent to her.

Her pursuit eventually brings her to an inexplicably empty part of the beach. Any other pony would think to change direction, but she knows this is the right direction. Motherly intuition, on top of damn good hearing, have never failed her before.

Soon she finds it. At first glance, you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for a taped off crime scene. Upon further inspection, it looks more akin to a makeshift border checkpoint, complete with concrete walls, barbwire and heavily armed changeling security guards.

Minus does not slow down a beat, even when one of the guards raises his truncheon.

GUARD: “Hey, you there! Naked... tiny pegasus lady? This area is restricted—”

MINUS: **“ROOOOOOAAAAAAR!!”**

GUARD: “Fortheloveofourpantheonofgodscornicleopenthedamnbarrierightnow!”

Boom! The boom barrier splinters into a thousand smithereens!

CORNICLE: (looking at the wreckage from his booth) “D’aww, this is gonna come outta my salary, isn’t it?”

It’s not long until Minus’ hunt for the source of her son’s cries brings her to a secluded little cove. On top of a rock slab overseeing the crystal clear body of water is a deckchair surrounded by more indoor comforts than a glamping site. AC, surround sound, cocktail bar, potted pine tree, any superfluous piece of capitalist crap you can name is there.

And the one sunk down in the deck chair is a young lavender unicorn, big and buxom with capital Bs. She is decked out in a diamond-studded pink bikini stretched agonizingly over thick, chubby body, like could snap and be sent flying in every direction. Her conditioned luxurious mane is done up in a huge top ponytail that draped down her expansive barrel. Her face is slathered with more makeup than a pig in a research lab. In her exquisitely hooficured and bejeweled hooves is a long island iced tea from which she routinely takes long sips, in between what can be deduced as her sunbathing.

None of those are her star feature; the first and pretty much only own thing that captures Minus’ attention is her rump. By Princess Celestia’s fluffy white marshmallow flanks, even they cannot compare to just how huge this thing is. Big, round and solid like two overinflated purple basketballs, her booty sweels up her sides and back more than any normal mare could hope. It dominates her figure more than anything else, causing Minus to wonder how her legs, thick as there are, could possibly hope to support such junk in the trunk.

She looked like a clown, Minus thought.

MINUS: “H-hey! Hey lady!”

The unicorn jerks upright from her laxed position and immediately snaps her head left and right.

MINUS: “Down here!”

This gets the mare’s attention, who removes her undoubtedly ridiculously expensive sunglasses so she can glare malevolently at the intruder.

TWILIGHT SPARKLE: “W-who, who the buck are you?!”

MINUS: “I’m-”

TWILIGHT: “And, like, what the actual _buck_ are you doing on _my_ side of the beach?!”

MINUS: (scoffs) _“Your_ side?! Lady, I don’t know who you think you-”

TWILIGHT: (it suddenly hitting her upon further inspection) “Oh. My. Gosh. Are you _naked?!_ Naked on _my_ side of the beach?! Ugh! How _dare_ you!”

Minus realizes for the second time that day since her snakesuit’s demise and she is overcome with embarrassment once more. For a couple of seconds, before she remembers why she is here and glares daggers up at the walking cosmetic freakshow.

MINUS: “Where’s my son?”

TWILIGHT: “... What?!”

MINUS: “I know he’s around here somewhere, missy. I just want to find him and I’ll happily leave your ‘side of the beach’!”

TWILIGHT: (pointing over her shoulder) “Wait... that little pervert is _your_ bucking brat?!!”

MINUS: (eyes burning blue fire) “What have you done with my baby boy, you lard ass!?”

Twilight Sparkle rolls her eyes and flicks her hoof. A small, bustling dog cage appears on top her lap.

TWILIGHT: “I caught your ‘baby boy’ snooping around here, trying to sneak up and take photos of my precious gals.” (slaps her oversized hip, making it jiggle like jello) “So now I’m treating the little peeping shutterbug to special time with my puppy.”

The sound of barking and snarling can be heard emanating from the cage. Behind the bars, Minus can see, Featherweight is inside, desperately punching, kicking and headbutting the morbidly obese monster of a ‘puppy’ squashed within the confines of the cage with him. Any moment and the vicious animal could toss him and rip him like a rag doll.

TWILIGHT: (grinning wickedly) “Ohhh, almost forgot: Spike hasn’t been fed today.”

Maternal fury like nothing this beach has ever seen is pumping through Minus’ entire being. She was angry when she caught her first boyfriend screwing her sister on prom night. She was furious when Dr. Caballeron tried to sink her and Daring Do into a cement bath. This is on a level she hasn’t reached in a long, long time.

Her wings spread open wide. She lowers her head, paws the sand and bares her teeth as if they are fangs.

MINUS: “I am going to count to the number three. There won’t be a four. When I do, you’re gonna let my son out of that cage and we’re going to leave together.”

TWILIGHT: (sips her ice tea and tastes her lips) “Nah.”

MINUS: “Think you’re tough, do ya? I’ll have you know, I’ve faced some of the worst scumbags and cut-throats the world has to offer… better yet, I married one of them. You ain’t nothing.”

TWILIGHT: “And you, teeny-tot, are still naked.”

MINUS: (yells) “Quite pussy-footing around! I’m not playing games here! Maybe I’m naked, but I’ve at least got something good and natural to show for it, unlike your done-up skinjob on that liferaft you call a backside!”

Twilight’s muzzle turns scarlet, but she maintains a tight smile. She lowers her head to the cage on her lap.

TWILIGHT: (sing-song) “Spikey-wikey, it’s din-din—”

FUSE: (offscreen) “Minus! Minus!”

They both turn their heads to see a mass of red in the distance bounding towards the cove. It doesn’t take Minus a second to know who it is.

MINUS: “Short Fuse! Where’ve you been?!”

Fuse comes to a breathless stop ten feet away from his wife. His legs buckle and he barely prevents himself from collapsing on his belly. Sweat is pouring down his face like a faucet.

FUSE: (out of breath) “Had to... go back to... cabin. For... toll... 100 bits... bucking ripoff.”

TWILIGHT: “EWW! OH! MY! GOSH! _More_ naked ponies?! What’s wrong with you two?!”

FUSE: (trying to steady his breath) “Okay... okay... okay... so... what’d I miss?”

TWILIGHT: “UGGGH!”

Her horn flares like a wild pink flare and, in a flash, the two are completely mummified from head to hooves in thick bandages. They only thing one can see of them are their eyes peering through. Both collapse to the sand, wriggling around like a couple of helpless maggots.

TWILIGHT: “At least now you’re actually _wearing_ something!” (carelessly picks up and tosses the dog cage away. Flicks her mane and holds a hoof to her chest haughtily) “Don’t you know this beach is for _respectable_ ponies? Here I was just working on my gawgeous tan and you peons have to come along and ruin it! Like, do you have _any_ idea who I am?! Pffft, no wonder your kid’s a creep.”

Twilight then tries to sit up, but for reasons that needn’t possibly be said, she suffers great difficulty. A solid minute of struggling passes until she can squeeze her titanic buttcheeks out from between the forelegs rest with a gelatinous _whoosh._

TWILIGHT: (muttering grumpily) “Bleh... girls, you’re beautiful, but you don’t make it easy.” (She holds her hoof to her lips and whistles)

A tricked-out glitzy pink and purple, doberman-pulled chariot comes bursting out on the beach, screeching to a curved stop in front of the group. The trunk pops open and the writhing, pony-sized sausages are thrown inside against their muffled protests.

TWILIGHT: (strutting over to the opening door)  “Time to clean the trash off this beach! Pinkie!”

The chariot door opens and, aside from a few balloons and confetti, a pony’s pink hindleg droops out like a legless pair of pantyhose. She slams the trunk back down, hoping it knocks one of the perverts on the head.

PINKIE PIE: (disoriented, slurred) “Heyyy, baby Twiliey! Where-where-where-where you been?!”

TWILIGHT: “Move it, Pinkie. Slight detour. We’re taking a little trip to Hoover Dam.”

PINKIE PIE: “Hoover Dam! Yeeeaaah!” (scrambles to make way for Twilight’s gigantic form making its way through the still tight space.)

TWILIGHT: (stopping) “Wait, no, forgot something.” (Her horn glows and the dog cage magically reappears at her side) “Didn’t think I’d ever forget you, did you?” (She makes nose-kissing and simpering babytalk) “D’awww, Spikey’s such a big fat baby doggy, isn’t he? He’s mommy’s big fluffy puddin’ piler! How about we get you out of that cage, so you can sit next to your mommy on the ride? You like that? Huh, you like that--”

SPIKE: “Buurp!”

A wet, half-digested camera clangs against the cage door.

TWILIGHT: (barely keeping a smile on her face as her muzzle scrunches in revulsion) “Okay. On second thought, you’re probably safer in there for a little while more. In you go.”

Twilight, again, drops the cage and hip-bounces it so very carelessly into the back of the chariot. Slowly, cumbersomely, she steps inside after him. It’s up to Pinkie Pie to take her by the forehooves and play some serious tug-of-war to yank get her two-ton best friend inside. She eventually does manage to pop inside, and the door is slammed shut behind her.

TWILIGHT: “LET’S ROLL OUT, LADIES!”

*  * *

 

As the chariot trundles along, away from the beach, husband and wife are knocked about in the trunk compartment; luck would have it that, having been hastily stuffed inside by an uncaring Twilight, Fuse is lying on top of Minus, his face pressing into the lid of the trunk, and his backside squashed against her face. Which, in this confined space, doesn’t make breathing any easier for her, leaving her writhing desperately.

 

However, potholes along the ill-maintained road make for a plenty bumpy ride. After they’ve bounced up and down a couple of times, Minus manages to roll away from underneath him, her mouth wide open, gasping for air; the bumps have also loosened the bandages, slightly.

Noticing this gives them hope that, with effort, the whole of their constraints could be loosened.

Sadly, it’s not to be. No matter how hard either of them may push or wriggle, tearing the bandages remains beyond their power. Twilight’s spell is holding them down so hard, not even Fuse with his massive earthpony strength can act against it.

Eventually, they let themselves slump, dejected. Fuse still staring up, Minus at the floor, and both of them looking away from each other.

MINUS: (in a small voice) “After all we’ve faced… I can’t believe this is how it ends. You, me, our son… We’ve tackled monsters and thugs, and we finally get done in by a pair of over-inflated airheads.”

Fuse says nothing, at first, still looking up at the lid.

FUSE: “Well, Minnie, you can’t say I don’t take you places.”

MINUS: “Don’t I know it. I’m sorry, Shorty, it’s my fault. If I hadn’t…”

FUSE: “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, you had every right to be mad at that sea-witch. What business was it of hers, getting between us on our alone time?”

MINUS: (scowls) “Oh, her. I don’t mean her. Good for sharkbait is all she was, I say. If we’re on the way out, boy, I’m glad at least there’s one spoiled doll of a bimbo less in the world.” (Pause.) “No… no, it was just so selfish, sending off Featherweight so we’d have time to ourselves. Never should have done it.”

This gives Fuse a moment of pause. He glances towards his wife.

FUSE: “Hey, you know what, dear?”

MINUS: (craning her neck to look back at him) “What?”

FUSE: “We did give him that camera in the hopes that one day, he’d grow up to be a nature photographer. Following your hoofsteps into exploring the wild.” (chuckles wryly) “Looks like he went and took a snapshot of a really vicious creature.”

MINUS: (returns the chuckle) “True that.”

FUSE: “Ah, it’s just bad luck, Minus. Has to happen at some point or another. Look at this way,” (with his shoulders still tied by the bandages, he gestures by shrugging at the trunk’s insides) “we’re going out the way we lived, all three of us as a family. Tangling with mean beasts.”

A moment’s silence falls. Minus, despite the friction of the trunk’s carpeted floor, summons what energy she had left, twisting and turning in a circle on her belly, so she can bring her head parallel to her husband’s.

MINUS: (with a small, affectionate smile) “You know, it makes me feel a little better, when you put it like that.”

FUSE: “Mmh.”

MINUS: “So…” (thinks about it) “Guess this is the part where, if we’ve got any unfinished business, we should try and resolve it. Might be a bit difficult, where we are, but hey, no-one ever got ahead in life without trying.”

FUSE: “Ah, I don’t think we gotta worry about life for too much longer.”

Minus headbutts him, which comes off as a light tap, due to the restriction of the bandages.

MINUS: “That was the joke, stupid. Egad, ten years on and you’re still the same knucklehead. That’s always been my least favourite thing about you.”

FUSE: (not believing her for a second, but willing to play along) “Oho? In that case, Minnie, if this is the end, I think I should let you know, I never really cared for your manecut.”

MINUS: “Fuse, I’ve had the same manecut for all of those ten years!”

FUSE: “That’s the joke.”

She huffes at this, while he, in spite of their dire situation, has to struggle not to grin. Outside, the chariot is plainly getting close to its destination, as inside, the bound couple can sense the wheels starting to slow.

Minus gives a last sigh, the reality fully sinking in, and she locks eyes with Fuse.

MINUS: “Well. It’s been a good run, ain’t it?”

FUSE: “The run is best when you got someone to run with.”

MINUS: (chuckling) “Oh, be quiet. I didn’t marry a poet.”

She leans forward and touches her lips against his. He gladly accepts. They remain like that, kissing, for as long as they can. Which proves to be until the trunk lid opens.

PINKIE: (dazedly) “Oooh, what’s it you got in here, Twiley?” (gasps) “What, are those ponies… wrapped up? You got me ponies in a gift-wrapping? Are those a present for me?” (bounces excitedly) “Yippee-yippee, I never got ponies as a present before! Why, the possibilities are endless! We could do all kinds of fun things with them, like…”

Twilight slaps Pinkie across the back of the head.

TWILIGHT: “Shut it, you doped-up saccharine junkie. Those bandages aren’t gift-wraps, they’re bin-liners, and if anyone around here can be said to be getting presents, it’s Applejack.”

The star pony looks over to see the mare in question approaching. The chariot is parked in an empty lot, on a riverbank from which can be seen the lip of Hoover Dam, blocking off what used to be a mighty waterfall.

Plenty of discarded junk and waste washes up in these parts, coming to a stop at Hoover Dam, where the various detritus - all manner of metal husks, blackened plastics and asbestos-ridden polysteryne surfaces - build up before the concrete wall, threatening to accumulate so much that they’ll ride over it like a half-solid, putrid wave. Unless someone were there to clean up.

That someone is the cowboy-hatted, obese, grungy and cigarette-chewing mare whom Twilight is now dealing with.

APPLEJACK: “Whaddya got?”

TWILIGHT: (smiles) “You’re in luck, it’s another special delivery, you old crab-apple.”

With a bored, jaded expression, Applejack sighs, pulling in a huge green container on wheels.

APPLEJACK: “Alright, alright, Ah’ll be taking ‘em fer the usual price. Remember, like always, it’ll cost ya double if ya want to watch. Popcorn not included in the tag.”

PINKIE: (with a wide, rictus-like smile) “Twiley, can I watch? Twiley, I can watch, right? Please? Pretty-pretty please?”

TWILIGHT: “Sure you can, Pinkie. If I get to watch, so do you.” (grins) “And I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now be a good girl and help Applejack load them up.”

Applejack just grunts at the words, but Pinkie, hopping about eagerly, goes to the trunk. After a failed, groaning attempt at pulling out the heavy Fuse, she massages her wrists and settles on the lighter Minus, slinging the bandaged mare over her shoulder. While Applejack was watching the whole time, not lifting a hoof to help, she now moves to get Fuse. Even though he’s twice her size, it’s no effort at all for her to give him a sharp tug and swing him onto her back.

Carrying their hapless charges, both mares head over to the big green wheeled container.

The bizzarity of the whole thing is such that Fuse and Minus barely have time to process it before Applejack and Pinkie dump them inside the container, slamming the lid shut. This leaves them in a darkness far greater than the trunk’s ever was. The inside of the container smells of rotten apple.

TWILIGHT: “Alright, ladies. Now for the fun part.”

She knows the married couple will hear her through the metal walls, and smirks. True, she did feel genuinely aggrieved when this family of clowns intruded on her private beach area, but with the trip over here, she’s remembered that the plebeians have their uses as amusement.

Applejack and Pinkie roll the container into the scrapyard, Twilight following on hoof, her voluptuous backside jiggling with every step. Past rows of battered and broken chariots they go, many of them rather like Twilight’s own exclusive doberman-pulled ride, until they reach what they’re looking for.

It’s a large, squared-shape hole in the ground, or rather, a chute. From the direction the three mares are approaching it, they’re facing a smooth diagonal incline into the chute, all the better to make undesirables slide towards the depths.

For at the bottom are a pair of enormous spinning, spiked metal rolls. This is the crusher.

The container comes to a stop. Applejack and Pinkie position themselves on either side of it, their forehooves grasping the handlebars. Twilight moves forward, standing by the chute, her forehooves lightly dancing in anticipation.

TWILIGHT: “Ready?” (they nod dutifully) “Here goes. In with them!”

Applejack and Pinkie tip the container, causing the lid to come flying open. It crashes into the metallic incline of the chute with a resounding bang.

The noise must have been even worse for Fuse and Minus, both of whom Twilight can see are visibly squirming in their bandages. Neither have the time to catch their senses, however, as the laws of gravity take over - the same laws she used to learn in school, so much more useful than boring old society’s laws, Twilight thinks, while fondly tapping her buttocks.

She supposes it’s a mercy, after a fashion. If they’re lucky, they won’t have time to recover before understanding exactly what’s about to happen.

The sight is like watching great bulbous silk-worms get swallowed by a jackdaw’s beak. As the heavier of the pair, Fuse slides down a few feet ahead of his wife, who’s slower in her descent but sure to catch up with her husband.

And as a smug, satisfied Twilight is telling herself a few seconds later, indeed the wench did.

Nodding thoughtfully, the scrapyard’s obese owner sidles up to her, shadowed by her favourite pink party animal.

APPLEJACK: “Ya know, that big fella, I ain’t never seen his like, tell ya the honest truth, Twilight. Fer a moment there, I was worried. Thought he might bust up the beautiful machinery, be more’n it could handle.” (smiles ingratiatingly) “But if that don’t prove ya pay for quality service, Ah don’t know what will. Mah baby ain’t met a disposable she couldn’t mince n’ chow on.”

PINKIE: (giggles) “Ah, it feels almost as sweet as munching candy. Wonder if that’s what they taste like, to the machine? Wouldn’t that be funny! Ooh, have I ever told you I wondered that? It’s a brilliant thought!”

TWILIGHT: (crossly) “You have told us that, Pinkie. Every single time.” (She pauses, her good humour returning) “Still. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

All three mares turn their backs on the chute and head off, laughing ghoulishly.


End file.
